Of Sea and Sun
by wyanmai
Summary: A look into where Sirius Black escapes to on Buckbeak right after PoA. Summer 1994. Includes Marauders-era flashbacks. One-shot, (well, actually, more like two-shot), for now, but maybe I'll continue it.


June 1994 ~~~

The first thing Remus Lupin did upon his return to his ramshackle cottage in Yorkshire was to extract a quill and all the letter paper from his briefcase. He sat down at his wobbly desk to write. He had many letters to compose, considering that Sirius, on the run once more, could use all the help he could get.

He decided first to write to those he knew would surely believe Sirius was innoccent. Ironically, Alastor Moody immediately came to mind. Despite embodying paranoia and mistrust, Moody had always seemed to like Sirius for his cheek.

Remus proceeded to write the same letter to all the original Order members, making a mental list of those still alive and ticking off each name as he went along: Sturgis Podmore, Mundungus Fletcher, Dedalus Diggle, Arabella Figg, Elphias Doge. He decided that writing to Hagrid and Aberforth was unnecessary. Sirius couldn't possibly stay near Hogwarts, and Dumbledore would surely inform the two if necessary. Sealing the last letter to Emmeline Vance, Remus paused, suddenly recalling a night just before winter holidays in his Sixth Year at Hogwarts.

 _They were lounging on Sirius' bed, James hugging a pillow and skulking from Lily's most recent rejection of his advances._

 _"Aw, come on, Prongs," Sirius consoled, slapping James a little too hard on the back. "There are other fish in the sea." James just groaned and collapsed onto his face._

 _"That's quite right," Peter chimed in, nibbling on a chunk of Swiss cheese he'd retrieved from his secret stash. "Plenty of pretty girls who would be thrilled to go to Hogsmeade with you."_

 _"Precisely," Sirius said, leaning back onto his pillow, "There's Lily's friend Mary Macdonald, if you want to make her jealous; Pandora Fawley—she's always very nice to you—"_

 _"That doesn't mean anything," James interrupted. "Pandora's nice to everyone. Honestly, she should have been in Hufflepuff, not Ravenclaw."_

 _"Florence McIver, now that she's broken up with that Quidditch player boyfriend of hers," Sirius went on, ignoring him. "Little Hestia Jones, maybe? She'll probably talk your ear off, though."_

 _"Or, if you want some real danger," Remus smirked, "you could always ask Padfoot's Cousin Cissy. I'm sure she'd love some company, seeing how her fiancé's graduated and—"_

 _Sirius threw James' pillow at Remus' head, catching the side of Remus' jaw. He spat out a couple of goose feathers and tucked the pillow under himself, still looking rather pleased with his comment._

 _"Just you wait, Moony," Sirius jabbed a finger at him. "Lucius Malfoy will probably come after you just for saying her name."_

 _Remus rolled his eyes and smirked again. "But really, James, there are a lot of girls interested in you. Marlene McKinnon, for example."_

 _"The Fifth Year who kept staring at James and giggling the other day?" Peter cut in._

 _"Exactly," said Sirius, and James rolled his eyes._

 _"Speaking of Fifth Years, don't forget Greta Catchlove," Peter quipped. "That girl knows even more about cheese than I do. You know, she's the one who recommended this particular Swiss to me, and I must say, it's brilliant, especially its bold…"_

 _"Wormtail," Remus interrupted, resting a hand on Peter's shoulder, "We're supposed to be suggesting girls for James, not talking about the ones we fancy."_

 _"Oh. Right." Peter's ears flushed a bright pink, and he popped the rest of the Swiss into his mouth._

 _Sirius seemed not to have heard Remus' last remark, however._

 _"How about Emmeline Vance?" he began. "Nothing short of perfection, that girl. She's so graceful, it's like she floats or something. I mean, Lily Evans is pretty, don't get me wrong, but have you seen Emmeline's hair? People can't just pull off that kind of dark, silky hair, you know. Merciful Merlin, she's beautiful, isn't she? And the way she bites her lip, oh man, it makes me want—"_

 _"Aaaand it seems we've lost him," Peter observed, looking at Sirius with academic interest._

 _James sighed, finally sitting back up. He tugged his pillow out from under Remus and chucked it at Sirius, hitting him square in the chest._ _"Oi, daydream's over, mate!_ _Honestly, Pads, you've been obsessing over her for a week now."_

 _Sirius, rudely awakened from his little reverie, glared around at his friends._

 _"It's because he's noticed she doesn't goggle at him," Remus said, sighing. "He could have any girl he wants, but of course he obsesses over the one who ignores him."_

 _"I don't obsess," spluttered Sirius. "I just—well, she's a Seventh Year, and—you know—ethereal. Just look at her next time. You'll see. I mean…"_

 _"'Aight Pads, let us know if you ever manage to say two words to her, yeah?" said James, and, before Sirius could tackle him, rolled onto his own bed._

Remus grinned at the memory, his chin propped on his knuckles. Sirius had largely put his obsession behind him by the following week, moving on to, (and succeeding at charming), many other girls. Still, every time he saw Emmeline in the hall, his walk would slow, and his eyes would linger on her tall, willowy frame.

At their first Order of the Phoenix meeting, Sirius had nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw her, but eventually managed to gather enough of himself to turn on his charm again. Come to think of it, they had become quite friendly towards the later years of the war. Emmeline had certainly paid more attention to Sirius than she had in school, though Sirius continued to stare at her whenever she wasn't looking. Remus wondered now if Sirius had ever managed to get Emmeline into bed with him. _Probably,_ he mused, though at some point he stopped bringing her up to his friends. He couldn't remember a single instance in which Sirius had failed to get the girl he was after.

Looking at the small pile of letters next to his hand, then at the stack of blank paper he had retrieved, Remus sighed. He had thought there would be many more letters than the mere six he had written, but, thinking over his mental checklist again, he realized that this was it. This was all that was left of the original Order. At this physical reminder of just how many people they had lost, Remus stood up and clambered over a broken footstool to get to the window.

He wondered if the pair of tawny owls he had befriended since moving in to this cottage still nested in the caved-in backyard shed. Sure enough, there they were, grooming each other in the moonlight. Remus paced the room with his wand in hand, listening for scurrying sounds on the floorboards, and, hearing something near the cracked foot of his bed, aimed his wand and whispered,

" _Accio_ mouse."

The mouse came zooming toward him, and Remus seized it by the body. He pinched it by the tail with his other hand and dangled it out in front of him. Then, picking up the letters, he made his way through the weeds in the overgrown yard over to the owl nest. The mouse should entice them to deliver these letters for him. With a little extra satisfaction, (as the mouse reminded him greatly of Wormtail), Remus tossed the rodent to the awaiting birds.

* * *

Sirius Black could not open his eyes. He was riding on the back of Buckbeak, clinging on to his wiry feathers for dear life, as the hippogriff soared over the English Channel to the mainland. Sirius could smell the salty twang of the ocean air and feel the wet wind tangling his already-mangled hair. The sensation wasn't altogether unpleasant, but it was hard to enjoy anything when the hippogriff was flying at such a speed that opening his eyes caused them to water profusely.

Today was Sirius' second day of travel. Upon his escape into the night away from Hogwarts, he and Buckbeak had headed south and landed, before sunrise, next to a lake somewhere in the middle of England. At least he got the chance to take a bath. There was no food, of course, and so Sirius had reluctantly transformed into his animagus and ferretted the grounds with Buckbeak for some rabbits and squirrels. They slept then, and past noon, after a morning's rest, proceeded south, this time stopping on grassy cliffs at the tip of Kent.

Here, Sirius, again scouring the grounds as a dog, had discovered an unattended muggle campsite. As fast as he could, Sirius had rounded up cans of SPAM and bags of jerky into a rucksack and hurried back to where he had hid Buckbeak behind a rock growth. Dinner that night was much more agreeable. He'd even remembered to nick a sweatshirt and jeans, for which he gratefully exchanged his rags.

It was on a full stomach that Sirius had decided he must at least leave Britain, if not head south out of Europe entirely. Now, crossing the Channel, Sirius was at a loss as to where exactly he should go. After a couple of days together, Buckbeak had seemed fairly agreeable to following Sirius' directions, but that was not helpful if Sirius had no directions to give him once they reached the mainland. Burying his face into the hippogriff's muscular neck, Sirius furrowed his brows in thought.

"Let's just go towards the Mediterranean," Sirius called over the wind. "You know where that is, don't you?" Buckbeak responded with a light caw, which Sirius took as a sign of agreement.

Yes, Sirius quite liked that idea. He could just picture the sparkling blue waters now, a welcome sight after being stuck for so long in Azkaban on that gloomy island, surrounded by ocean the color of sludge. He could go to the south of France, perhaps. His parents had once taken them to Nice when he and Regulus were little. Or perhaps, Morocco? Or Greece, maybe? The island of Mykonos is said to be cheerfulc and bright year-round.

Wait. How did he even know that? He'd never been to Greece.

And that was when he remembered where he had heard about Mykonos.

 _"Emmy, what do you think you'll do when all this is over?" Sirius asked, propping his head up with a couple of pillows._

 _He and Emmeline were in bed, still slightly sweaty and out of breath, covered only by a thin sheet despite the snow outside. Specifically, they were in her bed, at her deceased parents' house, where they frequently held their rendezvous. The flat Sirius shared with Remus—the two having moved out of the Potter house after James' wedding—was roomy and fairly devoid of clutter, but he was sure Remus would be home._

 _For some odd reason, Sirius, who always liked to brag about his sexcapades, was very averse to anyone finding out about Emmeline. There was a war going on, he told himself, justifying his secrecy. Their relationship would only complicate everything. Besides, he was protecting them both this way. If no one knew about them, no one could use her against him._

 _He wasn't sure what "they" were at the moment, but he didn't dwell on that detail. There was no denying the blossoming of tender feelings Sirius found he harbored for this woman, but it did not mean he wasn't going to ignore them as best he could. It was for the best that, by tacit agreement, they carried on as casual friends in public, but they both knew their relationship had progressed far beyond that between mere bedmates. Sirius had had plenty of trysts before. He told himself that this was no different, even as he knew he was completely in love with her._

 _"Oh, I don't know," said Emmeline. She looked up at the ceiling, a little contemplative quirk at the corner of her mouth. "I've always wanted to live in Greece. You know, get out of dreary Britain. Go somewhere hot."_

 _"Yeah? Rainy British weather suits you, though. I've never seen anyone look better in a raincoat and boots." She rolled her eyes, but broke into a real grin._ _Sirius chucked at his own cleverness, then leaned over to plant a kiss on her thin collarbone._

 _"My grand uncle has an apothecary on Mykonos, actually," she continued. "It's an island in the Cyclades, and it's beautiful every day of the year. Never snows. Barely even rains. Most days Uncle Herman would display his potions outside in front of the store."_

 _"Yeah? You've been?"_

 _She nodded, smiling at the memory. "When I used to visit as a girl, I thought it was the best place in the world."_

 _"The apothecary, or the island?"_

 _"Both. I just loved being there, running around the white, winding streets with the sun on my neck. When I got tired I would pop back in his shop, and he'd stir up some sparkling fig juice with lemon. Sometimes I'd play assistant to him while he came up with new potions. His workshop always opened up to the courtyard garden."_

 _"Sounds brilliant," Sirius said, eyes sparking. "Just wonderful."_

 _"Yeah, I think you'd really like it there, Sirius."_

 _A pause._

 _"That's what you should do, then. When...after the war, I mean."_

 _"What, go and actually be his shop assistant?"_

 _"Why not? You were always good at potions, weren't you." It wasn't really a question._

 _She raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know that? You weren't even in my year."_

 _"I must say, your reputation proceeds you."_

 _Emmeline laughed her husky, gurgling laugh. "Oh, Sirius. Why do I even put up with you?"_

 _"Aw, come now, love. I'm great company, and you know it."_

 _For some moments they both lay still, silent, each thinking their own thoughts._

 _Then, Sirius propped himself up on his elbows._

 _"You know, Emmy, at James and Lily's wedding, I wanted to ask you to marry me."_

 _She turned her head to look him square in the eyes, her face devoid of emotion, her smooth brown eyes unreadable._

 _"You did?"_

 _"Yeah, I did." He looked away."Just seeing them so happy together—I wanted that, you know? I wanted it so badly. With you."_

 _There was a moment of thick, stifling silence._

 _"You didn't ask, though." She finally said. Her voice was smooth and glassy, like the surface of a pond._

 _"No, I didn't." Another silence. Sirius stared a spot on the floor, still feeling Emmeline's gaze on his face._

 _"Would you have said yes? You know, if I'd asked?"_

 _"Would you really have asked?"_

 _No. The answer to both their questions was no._

Sirius shook his head, and as he did so, his long hair whipped painfully into his cheeks. Where was Emmy now, he wondered. Upon his escape he'd had no time or energy to track her down. Even if he had the time, part of him knew he would have been too afraid to ask about her. What was he going to do, show up at her house? Him, a runaway convict whom everyone believed had turned to the Dark Side? No, finding her would have been all sorts of imprudent and selfish. His one and only goal was to get Peter Pettigrew away from Harry, and so he hadn't let himself think about anything—or anyone—else.

Now, however, things were different. Perhaps he was still a runaway convict, and perhaps Emmy still thought him a traitor, but now, more than ever before, he wanted to see her. To clear his name in her eyes. Yes, he would convince her. He had to convince her. She would believe him, he just knew it. After meeting Harry, he had found a new desire to live his life. A new feeling that his life was not over. That there were things still worth pursuing.

And this one thing he desperately—even painfully—wanted to pursue. He needed to see her again, and he wasn't certain why, but somehow, some part of him he knew exactly where she had gone.

"Hey, Buckbeak! Hey, mate!" Sirius yelled. On the horizon, he could already make out the buildings that lined the beach at Calais. The hippogriff turned its head.

"How would you feel about a trip to Greece, eh?"


End file.
